Mammoth Soul-o

Take a gold watch, sell everything

Throw a dart at the map

Hook up the air stream

Ride into that setting sun

Do something crazy and dumb

While you're still young ...

Life is too short to put it off anymore

You gotta live it before, it's too late

Can't turn that clock back around

On what your dreamin about

You better do it now don't wait...

The month of June seemed to stretch April, May and July into one long, worn out road. My eyes, bloodshot, seemed to accent the dark bags that appeared as testament to the long hours of working. I was tired, grouchy and it showed. I was looking for minor salvation. I'd wanted to travel to Belize,  I'd settle for getting out of Dodge.


Earlier in the year, some friends and clients of mine had told me they would be taking month long trip throughout the western US and while I was invited to meet them along the road, my workload was far too great and I was booked solid through the month of June. Email and phone calls get transferred back and forth and find myself making plans to guide them in the Mammoth Area in search for some beautiful trout. July couldn't come too soon and I frequently imagined trading out the 8wt for a 4.


As quickly as the plan was created, the threads began to unravel. Although I desperately tried to take the ends and make something from it, there was nothing I could do to salvage the arrangements. My clients month long trip got waylaid in Oregon. Apparently, they racked up miles of repairs on their trip and had to postpone fishing with me till October. My buddy through no fault of his own, ended up not making it to the sierras but rather sitting by a hot lake in Riverside County, drinking a cold beer with his wife. Not a bad way out, but I'm sure he wished he was fishing. Even my wife bowed out and made plans for herself and Noah.


Hmm. I am stubborn if nothing else and while I could have easily stayed home and enjoyed the company of my family - I decided to hit Mammoth sans the family in tow. Although I have always enjoyed traveling and driving on my own, my wife is always skeptical and always balks at the idea of me traveling 7 hours away alone. Its a bitter sweet arrangement, and sometimes its easier to cancel everything. Its like getting the courage to watch a movie alone for the first time - only that when you finally get around to do it, you realize its not bad at all. For me, it had been a long time since I just up and left. Kids and Families tend to deter and defer these types of arrangements. But I was playing with new rules, no family, friends or clients. This was my time. Last Man Standing. Soulo. Just the perfect remedy to a weary month.


The drive to Mammoth from San Diego isn't very long. Its just that it isn't short enough. Distance and effort is probably the only thing that is keeping the tens of thousands of visitors from destroying that little sanctuary.


CA-395 is legendary. There's so much history hidden in the boarded up wooden homes, street names and fallen road markers along that stretch of highway. There's ghost towns to drive through and cool little main street mountain towns to stop for lunch and check in with the local fly shops. Even the boring section of the lower 395 conjures up thoughts of banjos playing and flashes from the movie "The hills have eyes."




"Life is too short... to put it off anymore..." The tunes played on and I saw a sign. Manzanar National Historic Site turn Left. Hmm. I thought back to grade school when I read the book "Farewell to Manzanar." I remember it feeling inconsequential and irrelevant to a young kid in the 80s. Just another book to flush through the brain, regurgitate on a book report and wait till recess.  Today - I was alone, I like history, so why the hell not. I turned off and found a rather nondescript building with an old fire engine out front. It would probably be a quick stop. I was wrong.

" In 1942, the United States government ordered more than 110,000 men, women, and children to leave their homes and detained them in remote, military-style camps. Manzanar War Relocation Center was one of ten camps where Japanese American citizens and resident Japanese aliens were interned during World War II. "

The inside of the building was beautiful and well done.  It was both sobering and fascinating - and brought to light some very interesting modern day dilemmas we now face.  With a small sigh, I reflected on today - with parks and libraries are closing, would this important little history lesson and monument last.  I knew I couldn't sit there and read everything.  I found they had the National Park Service has a nice "Virtual Museum" worth looking into.  Definitely a good read.

Manzanar, Independence, Lone Pine, Bishop, Mammoth Lakes... Whew.  Almost there. I love small towns and Bishop is no different.  While not your one road, one stoplight town, its small enough to feel its pulse.  Its a nice place to stock up and get some coffee at the "Looney Bean", fill the tank of the Sportsmobile with gasoline and maybe a quick fishing report on the way through town.  I checked out Brock's Fly Shop and while its laid out cleanly with a decent amount of gear and positioned on an easy corner lot, Gary, seemed rather disinterested in talking much.  I didn't want to read too much into it having gone through too many stores where the owner is literally on top of you, yet the shop looked so personable.  Its too bad that he just wasn't at the time.  Got what I needed (truthfully, I forgot the items at home!) and headed off to the river to fish.  It wasn't much longer, and a good thing too... I wanted to fish and the coffee and water had finally gotten the better of me.

While some people find the  Upper Owens boring and blase , I found the scene quite captivating and I snapped a few shots before I hit the water.

Fishing the Upper Owens can be technical, as it is generally preferred that you don't wade at all to avoid damaging any part of the ecosystem - but its not overly so.  There really is no need to enter the water to fish almost the entire stretch of river.  The main reason for not entering is to help prevent the spread of New Zealand Mud Snails which can have a dramatic and devistating impact on the river system and on the lakes in its head or tailwaters.

 On a hot day you might even consider jumping into its cool water as the weather can easily reach the 100s in the summer time.  My advice, drink lots of water, stay hydrated and take some breaks in the shade.  Unfortunately, there's not much natural shade except for cloud cover and that too is intermittent.  Not listening to my own advice, I found myself fairly dehydrated with a pounding headache and proceeded to throw up all the water I tried to put down once I realized I wasn't well.  Hobbled to the Rite-Aid in Mammoth lakes and quickly purchased a giant gatorade bottle for electrolytes, more water & some Advil. 

Fishing Tip: Stick to small dries and nymphs.  There is usually some sort of Pale Morning Dun or Callibaetis hatch in the morning followed by a caddis hatch in the afternoon.  Stick to sizes 16-18 in the AM and 18-20 for the smaller caddis.  Black, Olive & even red emergers, zebra midges all seem to work well under a dropper.  Stimulators are working, but not as well as the nymphs.  Nevertheless, they make an excellent Indicator as well.  Spinners looking to keep the stockers, try the good old standard salmon eggs.  

Finding a place to duck out, make some food and eat is generally tougher in most parts of california.  In Mono & Inyo counties, they are a lot more relaxed.  I just pulled off the road on FS2S07 and quickly made camp.  I had forgotten my guitar, so I started humming some songs that my son Noah sings and quickly fell asleep.

Its always good not to wear out your welcome, in both guests and fly fishing.  This time was no exception so I decided to hit up Hot Creek.  I was already relaxed so the last thing I wanted was to sit shoulder to shoulder fly fishing for a little 8" trout, but I couldn't resist the temptation and I went.  Hot Creek is actually born as Mammoth creek which begins above Mammoth Lakes.  From there it joins the hot thermal springs and eventually becomes affectionately known to us fly anglers as Hot Creek.  There's roughly a couple of miles available to public fishing.  Beyond that the land belongs to private fly fishing ranches that don't take kindly to fishing on their property.  The thermal springs are a nice place to soak your toes or go for a dip -- but beware, the park service has "closed" swimming to all due to unstable thermal activity.  They don't enforce it and you will always find people in the springs taking a bath while the park rangers clean the parking lots.

To the skunked angler, Hot Creek can be the answer to a series of long prayers.  There are more fish in this stretch of water than in most parts of California.  Couple that with lots of wild native fish and beautiful scenery and you'll often find this place is packed during the early part of the season.  Come high temps and later in the year, it quiets up nicely.  A great place to take beginners and a challenging place for those with technical knowledge and skills.  Hot Creek has a little bit for everyone. In the few hours I stopped by to fish the Creek, I caught more trout than I could count.  The larger ones really are sitting in those areas that are hard to make a cast to.  Try it and if you're good or lucky, you'll catch a nice  brown or rainbow.  I caught a monster of a brown trout; however, once I removed the hook and tried to hold it and the camera at the same time -- it slipped off into the water at my feet.  It was not meant to be I suppose.

 I figured I'd setup camp along the same stretch of road and head out to San Diego after a quick morning session. I could have.  I'm generally lazy so that would have been the easiest thing for me to do.   Then, it hit me - as much as I love traveling and being alone, I missed my family. 

I guess I had my fill.  Plenty of beautiful trout, gorgeous scenery and great weather. I took off for San Diego that night bringing back a few pictures to show my son (which by the way, when I have to go on a fishing trip without him, I refer to it as feeding the bears. I wonder how much longer I can hold that up when I only return with fish pictures) and knowing that I will be back sometime soon. My soul was refreshed and my mind was renewed.  Amidst all the beauty and magnificence, I remembered that my family was so important to me and I remembered why I wanted to share that place with them in the first place.  Well, maybe we'll all be able to go next time...

Driving on 395 when you're tired...

Driving on I-15 when you're tired...

Oh yah, special thanks to Kaenon Polarized which of course allowed me to see those big freaking trout hiding in the tiny little cutouts and which received plenty of complements as usual.  I showed the glasses to a group of people and I'm comfortable in saying they'll probably pick a pair up when they had back to the OC.

J